Chapter 3: Xie Xizhao
At 6:30 in the evening, the sky had already turned completely dark.
The dormitory building, separated by a small garden, lit up as trainees, in small groups, made their way to the cafeteria, exhaustion written on their faces.
However, as they passed a certain spot, they seemed to transform, suddenly perking up with energy.
As Xie Xizhao walked past the garden gate, he heard several high-pitched female voices.
“Lu—Xing—Xing—Baby—Mom—Loves—You!”
“Ai! Qing! Yuan! Eat! More! Play! Fewer! Games! Sleep! More!”
“Ji Yan! Ji Yan, look at Mom! Mom has been standing here for two hours! Look at Mom!”
Xie Xizhao turned to the person beside him, curiosity written all over his face.
Ji Yan: “……”
For some reason, his rarely seen blush crept onto his face. “Well, uh… When I debuted, I acted in a low-budget web drama, so I gained a few fans.”
Xie Xizhao nodded in understanding.
He had originally been walking on Ji Yan’s right side but naturally shifted to his left. Ji Yan gave a small wave toward the girls outside the gate, and they immediately waved their banners in response.
After greeting them, Ji Yan glanced around, only to find that no one was calling Xie Xizhao’s name. He felt a little disappointed on his behalf.
However, as soon as he recalled what had happened in the practice room earlier, that slight regret instantly disappeared.
…Heh.
It wouldn’t be long before his fan count was nothing compared to the guy next to him.
With that thought, he felt at peace.
Then, he heard Xie Xizhao ask, “Who is Lu Xingxing?”
That name sounded pretty cute.
“…Uh, well, actually, brother, his name is Lu Xing,” Ji Yan corrected tactfully. “And, uh, he even came by our dorm on the first day to introduce himself.”
Xie Xizhao looked a little surprised.
He thought for a moment before finally recalling, “Is he the one with the baby face?”
Ji Yan: “Yeah, yeah!”
“What about Ai Qingyuan?” Xie Xizhao continued asking.
Ji Yan gave him a look that was hard to put into words.
“Ai Qingyuan and Ni Xin are from the same company,” Ji Yan explained. “He’s the second young master of the Ai family and the crown prince of Shenghong. He was already expected to take the center position the moment the competition was announced, and right now, his popularity is miles ahead of everyone else’s. The general consensus is that unless he gets into a fight with the production team on stage before the finals, his debut is guaranteed.”
…
On the way back, Ji Yan spent the entire walk explaining the contestants to Xie Xizhao.
“Honestly, I don’t think Ai Qingyuan’s debut is set in stone. He’s way too arrogant. Sure, he has a lot of fans, but he has just as many haters,” Ji Yan said. “He specializes in street dance and was on a dance competition show before. He got dragged hard for something he said back then. The only reason he’s leading by a landslide now is because the show hasn’t aired yet, so he’s still riding the wave of his past popularity.”
But Xie Xizhao said, “Arrogance isn’t a bad thing.”
Ji Yan: “Huh?”
Xie Xizhao only said that one sentence and didn’t elaborate.
Ji Yan followed his gaze ahead and saw a familiar, defiant side profile.
It was none other than the person he had just been talking about—Ai Qingyuan.
Fortunately, Ai Qingyuan didn’t seem to know them and had no intention of striking up a conversation. He only glanced in their direction, his gaze pausing on Xie Xizhao’s face for the briefest moment before looking away.
His eyes carried an air of indifferent disregard, making Ji Yan feel a little uncomfortable.
‘So full of himself,’ Ji Yan thought. ‘What’s there to be arrogant about?’
No matter how impressive Ai Qingyuan was, could he possibly be more impressive than his brother?
Unknowingly, the scales in Ji Yan’s heart had already tilted silently in Xie Xizhao’s favor.
He whispered to Xie Xizhao, “Brother, should we head back to the dorm?”
Xie Xizhao replied, “Yeah.”
The two of them walked past Ai Qingyuan without stopping, heading straight up the stairs and back to their dorm.
—
In the following days, Xie Xizhao no longer spent his time lounging around the dorm or the rehabilitation room. Instead, he started leaving early and returning late.
Almost no one noticed this change. A nobody without popularity was invisible not just to fans and viewers but to the other contestants as well.
Except for Ni Xin.
That day, he had boldly declared, ‘See you on stage’, convinced that Xie Xizhao was nothing more than an empty shell with a pretty face.
Seriously, what kind of real talent could a random amateur, who got lucky and went viral, possibly have?
But that very night, when Xie Xizhao returned, he asked him a question.
“You said see you on stage earlier,” he said. “What exactly did you mean?”
Ni Xin: “……”
Annoyed, he replied, “Obviously, I meant I’m going to beat you.”
Xie Xizhao thought for a moment. “You mean during the evaluation?”
Ni Xin: ?
A sudden realization struck him—Xie Xizhao was taking this seriously.
For a split second, an unexplainable chill ran down his spine, and he even had a fleeting thought of backing down.
But the moment passed quickly, and he snapped back. “Fine.”
“What’s the bet?”
Ni Xin hesitated.
This time, Xie Xizhao didn’t give him long to overthink it.
“If you lose, you move out. If I lose, I move out,” he said. “How does that sound?”
Switching dorms.
On the surface, it wasn’t a big deal.
The problem was—when Xie Xizhao said those words, everyone in the dorm was there to hear it.
The four remaining pairs of eyes all turned to Ni Xin in unison. He knew that if he lost and had to move out in disgrace, it would be an extremely humiliating experience.
But since things had already escalated to this point…
He gritted his teeth. “Fine.”
And just like that, the bet hung over Ni Xin’s head like a sword.
For the next few days, he was restless, constantly feeling like Xie Xizhao had somehow set a trap for him.
Eventually, he sought out Ji Yan in private. “You’re close with Xie Xizhao. What’s he been busy with these past two days?”
Ji Yan smiled cheerfully. “My brother? He’s practicing, of course.”
No sh*t!
That wasn’t the point! The question was—practicing what?
Ji Yan said, “How could I tell you that? I have to keep it a secret for my brother.”
Then he added, “Ni Xin, don’t tell me—you’re scared?”
That single sentence shut Ni Xin up.
Furious but unwilling to stoop so low as to actually follow Xie Xizhao around, he could only stew in frustration. And just like that, time passed in a blur, and before he knew it, the first stage evaluation had arrived.
—
Super Rookie: Choose the idol you believe is the best.
With such a cliché and uninspired slogan, the show still managed to create a significant buzz online even before recording began. This was a testament to the innate appeal of survival shows and their competitive format.
On the day of the recording, Xie Xizhao went to the makeup room with Ji Yan as usual.
With a hundred contestants, waiting in line for makeup was inevitable.
Even though Ji Yan was mostly here to show his face, the cameras still made him feel a bit nervous. He chatted with some of the trainees from his company, and when he turned around again, he saw Xie Xizhao fast asleep on the couch.
“So that’s Xie Xizhao, the guy who accidentally went viral and made the news,” his teammate commented. “Crazy. We’ve been training in isolation for almost half a month, and I’ve barely seen him.”
“He looks…” someone else commented, “well, I guess he is pretty good-looking.”
Ji Yan immediately chimed in, “Of course.”
Then he added, “But Brother Zhao isn’t in great health.”
“You’re calling him brother all the time, Yanyan. You’re really siding with an outsider, huh?” One of the older trainees from his company chuckled. “Shouldn’t have let you switch dorms.”
“But he’s just recovered. Will he be able to handle the recording and training?”
“He’s probably just here to get some screen time.”
The moment those words were spoken, everyone seemed to come to the same realization.
Just like how Ji Yan, who planned to become an actor in the future, had become the most doted-on little brother among the trainees, many had initially felt a little wary of Xie Xizhao due to his striking looks. But that wariness quickly dissipated after hearing this explanation.
The conversation soon shifted elsewhere, with only Ai Qingyuan casually glancing toward the couch.
“That guy from your dorm?” he asked.
Since Ai Qingyuan rarely initiated conversations, Ni Xin was caught off guard and flattered. “Yeah.”
“Brother Xin even made a bet with him—hey, why are you pulling me?”
Ni Xin’s face stiffened, but Ai Qingyuan had already heard it.
Intrigued, Ai Qingyuan asked, “What kind of bet?”
Ni Xin had no choice but to explain. “I just can’t stand his lazy and arrogant attitude.”
As soon as he said that, there was a brief silence among the people around him.
I mean…
If we’re talking about being lazy and arrogant…
The guy standing right in front of us… Uh…
But Ai Qingyuan clearly didn’t have that level of self-awareness.
He simply remarked, “You should be glad this show doesn’t rate people based on looks.”
With that, he walked away.
The people left behind exchanged glances.
Someone hesitated before asking, “What did Brother Yuan mean by that?”
The person next to him hesitated. “I think… he just called Brother Xin ugly.”
Ni Xin: “…”
“Get lost, get lost, get lost!” His face twisted through a range of emotions as he shoved the people beside him away. “They’re calling numbers! Go get your makeup done!”
—
Xie Xizhao had no idea that while he was asleep, multiple silent battles had unfolded in the makeup room.
He had a good nap. The long waiting time meant nobody disturbed him, so he slept well.
By the time he woke up, Ji Yan was right there calling for him—his turn was just two spots away.
He went to wash his face.
It had been a long time since he had pulled an all-nighter, all for the sake of his recovery. But tonight, barring any unexpected circumstances, was bound to be the first time he’d stay up late again. From his experience, these kinds of shows always dragged on forever during recordings.
Fortunately, after a good nap, he felt like he was in pretty good shape.
The makeup artist was a sharp-looking girl with short hair. She was quite familiar with him, mostly because his face barely needed any makeup.
She held up her brush. “What kind of look do you want?”
“You mean I get to choose?” Xie Xizhao chuckled.
“Others don’t, but you do.” The girl was direct. “I’m a sucker for good looks, after all.”
Xie Xizhao thought for a moment. “Something fresh and natural.”
The girl glanced down and noticed that, for once, he had ditched his usual “old-man” aesthetic. Instead, he had chosen a cream-colored hoodie.
The hoodie featured crayon-style graffiti, vibrant and colorful.
Paired with it was a slightly mom-would-yell-at-you level of ripped jeans.
It was strange—technically, Xie Xizhao wasn’t that old. Well… his actual age was a bit tricky to calculate. He had been eighteen before he fell into a coma, and with those four years added, he was now twenty-two at most.
But for some reason, the makeup artist always felt that he was far more composed and steady than all the young punks in the room.
‘Could being in a coma be some sort of spiritual training?’ She muttered to herself while getting to work.
She muttered to herself inwardly but didn’t slow down at all. In just a short while, Xie Xizhao opened his eyes.
Ji Yan, who had been waiting for him, instinctively held his breath.
The boy in the mirror had a pair of warm, clear eyes. Now, those eyes—along with his brows—had been subtly enhanced with black eyeliner and brow pencil. Just a few strokes, nothing heavy, yet they accentuated his naturally striking features even more.
His lips, usually pale, now had a hint of color from the makeup, making his entire face appear much more vivid and full of life.
But the most eye-catching detail was the tiny, irregularly sized rhinestones adorning the corner of his left eye.
They were arranged delicately at the outer corner, catching the light in a way that made them sparkle when viewed up close. From afar, they left only a faint impression of scattered glimmers—like tiny constellations.
Ji Yan blurted out, “This makeup… Brother, this is way too strategic!”
Xie Xizhao chuckled in amusement.
He stood up.
The makeup artist gave him a nod. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” he replied.
With that, he and Ji Yan stepped out into the hallway together.
“Brother, over here—signature board.” Ji Yan gestured toward it.
Before entering the stage, every contestant had to sign their name on this board. One day, in the distant future, this spot would become a sentimental landmark for fans and trainees alike—a place to revisit, reminisce, and leave behind traces of their journey.
But for now, it only marked a beginning.
Ji Yan had already signed his name. He handed the marker to Xie Xizhao.
The moment the black ink touched the board, Xie Xizhao’s mind wavered slightly.
The tip of the pen curved, sketching out a faintly arched line—almost forming a simple number.
But half a second later, he snapped out of it.
A small, helpless smile appeared on his lips as he steadied his hand.
Thirty seconds later, silence settled around the signature board once more.
The noonday sunlight spilled onto the board, bright and dazzling.
In one corner of the board, the three bold characters of Xie Xizhao’s name stood out—each stroke firm and powerful, exuding effortless grace. The ink trailed like a winding dragon, fluid and untamed.
